a painful risk

“...and the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” –Anaïs Nin

"She stood there, leafy camouflage fallen away and bare bark exposed, reaching her arms into the darkness, unafraid. A reminder of the easy grace that comes from not hiding and the simple paradox that strength comes from mounting no defenses."
-Megan Lane

I am finding myself somewhere in between these two states of being… somewhere in between the painful risk of refusing to hide and the relief that comes from letting down the walls.

One of the things I have really been striving to do this summer is to honestly claim who I am in the exact place in which I am without making excuses or apologies. The time I have spent in isolation has brought about a lot of new perspective, but it has also brought a lot of personal issues to the surface that have been compressed and stifled for a long time, and I cannot pretend that the process of addressing them is not a painful one.

I want to be honest about the ways in which I have changed this summer, and part of that honestly involves a mutual understanding that pain is an ever-present factor in my life. I believe in a God who not only cultivates my pain and uses it for purpose, but who purposefully has me walk through pain for a purpose. But I will be honest about the fact that it’s not fun; it’s hard, and it’s raw, and it’s brutal, and I hate it.

I am committing to honesty in my life, to refusing to put on the “everything is great” exterior, because I want people to see that pain is a part of my story, that my pain points to the face of the Lord, Jesus Christ, that my pain is the reason why I am who I am, and that the Lord has done amazing things in my life through pain.

Part of this honesty that I feel I am being called to involves addressing the pain it takes to embrace myself. I have reached a point where it hurts more to hide than it does to openly claim myself for exactly who I am; yet, it still hurts to claim myself. It is a rocky journey, one that (in my life) can feel very positive and productive one day yet can also feel terribly shattering the next. One of the things I am learning is that a productive day for me isn’t always a positive one. Sometimes, what is most productive for me on any given day might involve great sadness, anger, and depression coupled with the time it takes to process through these emotions. But you see, I am free. I am not in bondage any more to these emotions. I am free because I am allowing myself to feel when I need to feel. I am allowing myself to come to terms with my human need to process anger constructively, my need dwell in sadness at times, and my need to channel the murky confusion of depression. Simply allowing ALL my emotions a place to run their course is a huge step for me; ceasing to patronize myself for feeling negativity has been a huge breakthrough for me.

Yet, there is fear in my heart. It is easy to find freedom in being who I am when I have lived practically alone in isolation for three months… but going back to Wheaton, a campus where everyone feels the need to love Jesus and smile more than the person sitting next to them terrifies me. I don’t know if Wheaton wants all of me – if it wants my brutal emotional honesty or my refusal to hide for the sake of promoting a “better” image.

I guess it doesn’t matter…. because I am going back to school in 6 days, and there is no stopping that.

restoration

Sometimes I wake up and I long for more. There are days when my normal life suits me just fine… when mundane tasks and normal schedules are fine with me, and sometimes refreshing… Yet there are other days-- days like today-- when I say to myself, “Charlotte… you have to do something with your life”… and the “something” can’t just be anything ordinary. Although I’ve always felt that passion has been an integral part of my personality since the day I took my first breath, living this summer for the first time as completely an adult and for the first time in isolation has taught me immeasurable lessons...lessons that I plan to write about over the next month out of fear of forgetting them but also out of joy in sharing the contentment that I have found.

Anyone who knows me vaguely well knows that I find great enjoyment in coffee shops, not only for the fact that they have coffee, but mostly because of the atmosphere. My favorite coffee shops are in Hillsboro village in Nashville. I like them so much because they provide an atmosphere that I find myself most at ease in; I kick my flip flops off, sink into a comfy chair, and lounge in the tranquil summer heat, reading, reflecting, writing, sipping on something delicious, and lavishing in the sights and sounds and smells that are the wonderful city that is Nashville … cars whizzing by, music always playing in every direction, the candle waxy sun melting down on me, the light breeze teasing my hair. I’m not hard to please. I miss my home for these reasons, and I plan to spend some time doing these things when I go back to visit next week.

Today is Saturday, glorious Saturday – the day that nothing is required of me and the time is all mine… and I was thinking Borders. Not only does Borders have coffee, comfy chairs, and big windows with sunshine streaming through, but they have BOOKS! Lots and lots and lots of them! Honestly, what more could I want? Although I came with the intention of studying, that intention quickly faded as I walked past the magazines. I love magazines simply for the pictures.

I would say that six months ago, had I walked into Borders, I would have made a beeline directly to that section. You know… THAT section… the one with Marie Claire, Cosmopolitan, Glamour, Redbook, Good Housekeeping, Lucky, Elle, Vogue, InStyle… THOSE magazines that tell me how I’m supposed to define myself… what I’m supposed to look like, dress like, act like, how I’m supposed to flip my hair as I walk, apply the correct shade of lipstick, and make a man fall in love with me. Six months ago, those things mattered to me... those things defined me… and every time I didn’t “measure up”, a tiny piece of me would die inside whether I acknowledged it or not.

Today, I walked into Borders, took one look at that section, and walked past it, uninterested. Instead, I picked up a literary magazine combining photography and writing, a craft magazine, and southern living (just for old times’ sake). I flip through, fingering the pages tenderly, relishing the beauty on the page as my mind slips into the photograph, my heart washing away with the ocean and my soul lying bare on the page.

I am a passionate, courageous, strong woman because I serve a god who teaches me that true beauty is found in the simplicity of His creation… that I am loved beyond measure even as the world shouts at me that I am worth nothing, I deserve nothing, and I am nothing… He teaches me that I am beautifully broken, which allows Him to make me perfectly whole… that I suffer because in my suffering, I find rest with Him in the knowledge that I share in His sacrifice for me. Because of my God, my ability to love far exceeds that of this world… and I continue to pour myself out on this bleeding world that He made, that He loves so deeply, loving and loving and loving and giving until I have nothing left to give…. And then turning my face to Him, feeling Him shine on me and hold me close, healing me, restoring me, nurturing me, and whispering softly in my ear… “You are mine. I will never let you go. I love you."

worth it

one thing god is teaching me is the exact depth of his perfection. as a woman who has relied on other people throughout her entire life to make or break her happiness, it can be frustrating, even devastating when someone doesn't come through. when someone else can't be everything i need, it is easy to let my world fall apart. unfortunately, this hurts the other person... what huge responsibility! and it hurts me too... what huge expectations in a being as infallible as a human! yet, god is PERFECT. god doesn't fall through for me when i have needs. god is a perfect father in every way. i can call on him at any point, even late at night or early in the morning, and he will be there for me 100%. he won't leave me dragging my feet through the desert sand, feeling so thirsty and finding no water in sight... or worse, finding only enough water for one sip.... a sip that teases me enough to torment me with hope but not enough to quench me, as friendship can often do. just knowing his name is like water... just in calling him my abba. just meditating on his peace is sometimes more than i can deal with at once.

i am overwhelmed with how much i owe him, how broken i find myself before him, yet how much he has provided so that i am now called a royal priesthood...a holy nation...... ......beloved daughter. those words sting me deeply in an incomprehensible way.... i don't understand the depth of those words, and i do not understand that love... but i know how much i want it. i want it so badly that my body aches for it... my heart cries out to comprehend it... my soul thirsts to know what it means to be cherished. and yet, the lord does not waste my suffering. it is worth it. it is worth it for me to suffer for his purposes. he is worth my suffering. this song could not explain it better:

"worth it all" - rita springer

"i don't understand your ways.... oh but i will give you my song! give you all of my praise. you hold on to my pain, and with it you are pulling me closer... pulling me into your ways.

around every corner and up every mountain, i'm not looking for crowns or the water from fountains. i'm desperate in seeking, frantic believing that the sight of your face is all that i need.

and i will say to you... it's gonna be worth it all."


lord jesus, you say that i am worth it.... i am worth it to you. even if i am not worth it to anyone else lord... i am worth it to you...

abba, teach me what it means to FEEL worth it.

i want favor with you.

scars

moving to college has been such a huge transition for me.... and i have missed my church and my supportive mentors at home so much..... in a sense, i feel like i've suffered a good amount in the last month, and i haven't allowed myself to process that. i keep pushing it to the back of my mind to avoid it.... to avoid feeling broken about it.... but i realized today that it's a part of this process, and i'm trying to allow myself to be more openly broken right now.

brokenness is good. brokenness is beautiful. and what i'm learning is that not everyone will embrace my brokenness... not everyone will see that it's productive, or how it's shaped me into who i am, or even that it continues to grow and change me for the better... not everyone will see god in the middle of my mess. sometimes i don't even see him... but i know he is there. and what i'm realizing is that i can't let these people convince me that i am fallen because of what has happened to me. not everyone is going to understand. To some people, this pain looks disgusting… it looks like scars that cover me up, and it might look like it’s impossible to get to me without uncovering the scars one by one. Well, it’s true. My past and my pain are a part of me. they don’t go away, even though I can hide them sometimes… but I’m on this journey to this place where I won’t feel the need to hide them anymore. I’m trying to get to a place where I am no longer ashamed or afraid of the ways that god has allowed me to suffer and therefore has shaped me into this creation that he loves.

God has been reminding me constantly how deeply he loves me and how desperate he is for my whole heart… and he continues to tell me this because he knows that some will not understand this journey I’m on…. This journey he is calling me to. He wants me to know how loved I am even when it is not immediately tangible. He is teaching me to love myself despite the scars and the places that are embarrassing, hurtful, and hard to talk about. I truly DO find my worth in the lord… I find that I am treasured, secure, cherished, a royal priesthood, a daughter of the king. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that my worth can’t be measured in earthly standards. Sometimes it feels so important to be valued in another person’s eyes that it is so easy to forget about god’s sovereign promise of where I stand and whose I am. I belong to him… I am his child of promise. I have learned all summer long about how much god loves me, and if I would seek worth in anyone, it would be him.

The thing is, I don’t wear this mask anymore. I refuse to let the world scare me into a corner of cowardice by telling me I have to pretend to be unbroken. Not only will I honestly admit that I have brokenness in my life, but i’m not afraid to talk about it. I have come to terms with honesty in the sense that I am tired of hiding. I have been hiding for years, trying to fit so many molds, when really, god just wanted me to be me. I am tired of answering that I’m “fine” if I’m not… and so I try hard not to... and people seem shocked by that. Imagine what the world would be like if we all provided honest answers to the question “how are you?” on a regular basis? I dare you to try it and see how people respond to you. I will not hide in suffering… not only because I am honest, but because I know that God “works for the good of those who love him”, and I know that he is using my pain for good. He does not waste my hurt… he is using my past to chasten me, to teach me, and to instill in me a sense of compassion… a choice I am making because I was not shown compassion for so many years of my life. I choose to overflow with compassion upon those who blame me for my scars, because god is calling me to be a bondage breaker…. I am being raised up in Christ to break the destructive patterns in my family of bitterness, anger, tearing others down, rejecting religion, apathy, abuse, selfishness… the list goes on and on… I am a warrior on this earth, fighting what is easy… what is so natural for me, even in the home I grew up in. I refuse to allow these things to continue! They stop with me! I never thought I could ever say this, but praise be to the Lord for placing me in a home that would teach me the meaning of pain so that I will never allow a tolerance for that destruction around me and in my own home as long as I can help it. thank the lord for teaching me the meaning of pain so that I can literally mourn with those in my life who mourn. Thank the lord for scarring me so that I bear battle wounds for the lessons he has taught me and the new life he brought to me in the midst of toil. These scars do not rule me, but in fact, they make me beautiful. They make me a real, honest, COMPLETE woman. I no longer believe that scars leave me broken, but scars contribute to my WHOLENESS in Christ that he is providing me day after day. And I am not ashamed to say that I am recovering… that I am still healing. Every day is not perfect… some days are struggles and other days are days of healing… but here I am. This is who I am. I lift my eyes to the hills, and it is God who sustains me... it is in Christ that I find my worth…. It is in the Lord that I find shalom, the ultimate peace…. It is in the power of the Lord’s love that I find the strength to love myself…. All of myself…. Even the scars. Even the past…. Because the creator of the universe looks at me and says I am beloved… he who began a good work in me will complete it…. and God says that is enough. God says his love is enough for me… his grace is enough for me… and I refuse to seek my worth in the eyes of man. i am broken and beautiful.